


Animals

by A_Bunn_Tale



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Physical Abuse, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 15:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11421063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Bunn_Tale/pseuds/A_Bunn_Tale
Summary: In which we explore the finer details of a taboo relationship between the Kazekage and his sister, starting from the beginning of his fascination, and her initial fear. In which we watch as they progress through their lives, shouldering the burden of their lust, and love, in the shadows of their own guilt and trauma. In which we note how he changes, becoming a person of whom people look up to, and yet, the nagging discourse of his inappropriate actions cause a deep unrest within those who know of his sins, of their sins; and yet, they do not stop. They find comfort in whispered words, far too quiet for normal comprehension, in fevered touches that grow in desperation, and small smiles quirking at the corners of their lips, happiness found in only things they understood. A relationship, private, yet known to the world and simply not talked about.





	Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we explore the finer details of a taboo relationship between the Kazekage and his sister, starting from the beginning of his fascination, and her initial fear. In which we watch as they progress through their lives, shouldering the burden of their lust, and love, in the shadows of their own guilt and trauma. In which we note how he changes, becoming a person of whom people look up to, and yet, the nagging discourse of his inappropriate actions cause a deep unrest within those who know of his sins, of their sins; and yet, they do not stop. They find comfort in whispered words, far too quite for normal comprehension, in fevered touches that grow in desperation, and small smiles quirking at the corners of their lips, happiness found in only things they understood. A relationship, private, yet known to the world and simply not talked about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm gonna go out on a limb here and maybe debate with myself if I should keep writing. I love these two so much, but the question is, do others love these two? I know the summary is kinda crappy, and I'll probably change it later in time. But yes. Here. Have some Gaara/Temari starting from the beginning (they are aged up, just sayin'). Hopefully, I'll retain enough inspiration to keep writing, and we can explore the foundations of whatever the fuck these two are.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uMszs3J1pLc

Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.

Temari cursed under her breath, desperately wishing that her heart would stop hammering against her ribcage. It was beating so quickly that she was certain it was going to somehow break out of her body, and end up somewhere on the floor. Hell, she was sure that /he/ was going to hear it, and that would more than likely be the end of her. She would be dead, and knowing him, it wouldn’t be a quick, merciful death. No. It would be slow, drawn out, as he elected scream after scream, plea after plea, from her, until her throat was hoarse from her begging, and then, maybe then, he would find kindness in that pit he called a heart, and put her out of her misery. She doubted it, though, as her misery was his joy. Her misery brought a smile to his face, and while it was warped, demented, /inhuman/, it was a smile, and it was the single thing that reminded her that he was human. He was a person, a person who suffered at the hands of their village, at the hands of his family, at her hands, so why should she not suffer at his? She swallows thickly, raising a hand to rest over her heart, and squeezes her eyes shut. 

It was futile, she knew this, and yet, she finds herself praying to whatever was out there, for mercy, for forgiveness. It would not be granted. A creaking sound is heard from the old wood of the cabin, and she inhales sharply, her hand flying from her chest, to her mouth. Silence hangs heavy in the air, before the door squeaks loudly, rocking on its hinges as it’s pushed open, and the shuffling of sand where it did not belong draws her attention. Her eyes well up, and she’s shaking, but she does not move. There was no point. He knew where she was, and running just made it fun for him. It prolonged her life. How long could she entertain him before he grew bored? It didn’t matter to him, the seconds that she was clinging to so hopelessly. They were seconds he had to spare, as his death was simply not going to happen. He had slipped from its hands more than once. He was invincible, and he knew it. He abused it. Temari was sure, that he loved it, in his own way. 

The sand is so quiet, she can barely hear it, but she knows its there. Sand has a funny way of getting into your shoes, and when you think you’ve gotten it all out, it rears it’s gritty head again, and reminds you that it’s still there. It will never go away, it’s a fucking parasite. Just like him. 

 

His fingers find her shoulders, and she’s tugged to her feet and forcibly turned around. Pain coursed down her back and her teeth dig into the soft purchase of her lower lip, as his hands pull her close, nails digging into the fabric of her clothes. His breath is hot against her ear, and a shudder races up her spine when she hears his words. They vibrate to her very core, and her legs buckle, which cause her arms to fly out and curl around his shoulders in a pathetic attempt to steady herself. Temari thinks he’s smiling now, but she isn’t sure, as the corners of his lips are curled up in jagged angles, his canines protruding ever so slightly.

“I found you.” he whispers.

She takes a moment to be amazed that he touched her. His hands were pushing her against the wall, and he was pressed tightly to her. He was never one for physical contact, yet here he was.. Perhaps he just wanted to feel her heartbeat against her skin before he killed her. That would make sense, and she bites down harder on her lip when she feels his tongue slid across the skin of her neck. Was he going to rip her throat out with his teeth? That would be a new one for him, but Temari wasn’t going to put it past him. That.. That /monster/ inside of him enjoyed the bloodshed, and without a shadow of a doubt, she knew he was whispering the details of her demise in her little brother’s ears. A quiet sob is drawn from her, and had it been any other moment in time, she would have scolded herself for showing weakness. It was not like her, but this was not any other moment in time. This was now, with seconds ticking away, each breath she took potentially being the last. Her strength had faded when his pupils had dilated and he had looked directly at /her/. It was then, that she knew it was her time, and had taken off running. They were on the outskirts of Sunagakure, stopping for the night to prepare for their journey to Konoha for the Chunin Exams. The moon was full, and Kankuro, Baki and her, were wary, watching Gaara closely. That monster inside of him was the most active during, and on the nights leading up to the end of the solar cycle. They had been on plenty missions before during this time, but there had always been easily accessible victims for him to take his rage out on. This time, however, there was no one but her, their brother, and their mentor. It was a no brainer as to why he had chosen her. All she would have to do is survive the night, and he went back to his stoic, antisocial self. That didn’t look like it was going to happen.

She is drawn out of her thoughts as cold fingers reach under the hem of her dress, and his teeth find the juncture of her neck. He bites hard enough to break skin, and while it hurts, she stays silent, her own hands clenched together, with the fabric of his shirt resting firmly in her grasp. She wants to push him away, to scream at him, to slam her fists against his chest and spit on his face. She wants him to just /die already/. She wants his hands off of her, wants his teeth, his mouth, his body, far, far away from her. She wants this so desperately, but she knows better. Gaara gets what Gaara wants. That was the unspoken law of their lands, and those who tried to say otherwise, ended up inside of that gourd.. Or at least, bits and pieces of them ended up inside of his gourd. The sand had a very prominent stench of gore, and it wafted off of him no matter where he went. While he may be silent and damn near impossible to catch sight of, you could smell him a mile away. It was the biggest flaw he possessed.. Well, the biggest physical flaw that she knew of. It mattered little, to a monster who was unkillable. It added to the fear, it made his victim’s blood spike when they smelled their death inching across the floor, and sliding up their legs, their torso, and to their neck, where it would slowly begin to crush their trachea. They would gasp, claw at the sand, attempt to form words, but they knew it was futile. Humans clung tightly to their life, even when it was ebbing away and they were powerless to stop it. 

“Do you have any idea what I am going to do to you?” 

His voice is harsh, low, guttural, /raw/. There is something akin to emotion hidden within his vocals, Temari speculates, but she is unsure, as his tongue is lapping the wound he had just created. It felt so wrong, and yet, her head still tilted to the side. ‘It’s a fear response.’ she thinks to herself, and an unfamiliar shudder runs up her spine when she feels the pads of his fingers against her inner thighs.

Her confusion had to be prominent, as he pulled his head back, and removed a hand, cupping her chin with surprising gentleness, forcing her eyes to meet his. She had never seen him get this close to any of his other victims. It was abnormal. She didn’t like it. At the rate this was going, she found that she preferred the idea of being turned into a pile of body parts far more appealing than the route she was assuming he was taking. It shouldn’t be so surprising; he’s a teenager, and with that thing in his head, of course his attention would focus on the nearest female that was available. 

His wandering hand is stilled, and he watches her, his own orbs of teal darting back and forth, seemingly searching hers for an answer to his question. She looks back at him, her lips parted helplessly as she attempts to form a sentence, but the words were stuck in her throat and her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth. Her gaze wanders to his lips, which were stained a bright red, illuminated by the moonlight peering in from the haphazardly put together window. The same colour of his hair ran through her veins, and she looks down, determined to avoid looking at her blood on his face, and slowly shakes her head. 

“N-no, Gaara.” she forces out, her voice breaking. 

He says nothing in return, and his attention is redirected back to her neck, where his gentle touches continue. His teeth nip in an almost playful manner at the broken skin, which reminds her that he had hurt her already, that he could hurt her again, if he felt like it, and his tongue darts out to soothe the millisecond of pain that she is subjected to. It was so unlike him, and his lips travel from her neck, towards her collarbone. The hand holding her chin in place tugs at the front of her dress, exposing more flesh for his taking. His tongue is tracing nothing against her skin, soft, almost teasing.. Did he know what teasing was? Her eyes slide shut once more, and she shakes her head again, and her hands move to push him away. She could easily shove him, but that would put an end to whatever game he was playing, and that end meant /her/ end. At the rate this was going, it looked like she might have a chance to live another day, but that meant she had to make it through the night. Making it through the night meant letting him do whatever he wanted to do, and not making a fuss, no matter how wrong, how disgusting, how damaging it may be. 

“Do you /want/ to know what I am going to do to you, sister?”

Did she want to know? No. Was she going to say that? No. She had to play his game, and even then, there was a very good chance that she wasn’t going to make it out of this alive.. Or at least, unchanged. How it was going to be changed, she had a vague idea, with his hand up her dress and his lips having traveled parts of her that they should have never traveled.. She was faced with the mental question as to where he had learned such.. Salacious behaviours.. If it was even salacious behaviour. It could very well just be a scare tactic, which was working very well in his favour. It was something that a brother shouldn’t be doing to his sister.. But it was something that a predator did to their prey.. And tonight, /she/ was /his/ prey. She swallows thickly.

“I..”

“You..?”

The vibrations of his voice against her torso had her swaying slightly. She could feel his response in the soles of her feet, which were firmly planted on the ground, but felt as if they weren’t there. 

“No. No. I want you to let go of me right now.” 

Somehow, she found strength. She doesn’t know where she found it, or where it came from. Later, when she had time to herself, she would pick this moment apart, examining every little detail critically, judgmentally, assessing where she had gone wrong, where she could have done something different. 

“Are you sure?” 

His grip tightens, his fingers applying bruising strength to her thigh, and his other hand moving to cup her throat, where he begins to tighten his grip. Fuck. This was it. Would her life flash before her eyes, as others have boasted, or did that only happen in the heat of battle? It didn’t matter to her, as she wasn’t going to live to tell the tale. That was finalized at her disobedience. 

“Y-yes.” 

That was it. The nail in the coffin, which she wouldn’t be buried in. No, she would be left here to rot, and maybe, if she was lucky, her body would get eaten by the inhabiting animals and she wouldn’t fully go to waste. His grip tightens again, and she refuses to look at him, keeping her eyes shut tight. He wasn’t allowed to bask in her fear, he wasn’t allowed to see it. She was going to deny him that simple pleasure, or at least, she was going to try her best to. It was becoming difficult to breathe, and her hands move from his shoulders, to the hand on her throat, and her nails scrape at the sand, ripping at the armour that coated his body. He had never been hurt, and he could never be hurt. She thinks she hears a laugh, but she isn’t sure. Her mouth open, Temari gasps for breath, trying with fading strength to extract herself from his grip. It wasn’t working, but humans had a nasty habit of fighting the inevitable. Perhaps that is what made killing so intoxicating to her little brother. No matter what he did, his victim always struggled, always fought, until their body had no choice but to shut down. Her vision would be going black had her eyes not been squeezed together, and her clawing lessens, but this is when he lets her go, and she collapses, her legs bending under her weight. Her head hits the floor, bouncing slightly and she takes ragged, deep breaths, that rattle her down to her very core. The air feels foreign, weird, but she’s greedily inhaling it and forcing her body to accept it. Her hands curl ever so gently around her throat, which was bleeding profusely from the side, and very quickly smartening now that the pressure was removed. Temari rocks gently back and forth, tears causing her eyes to glaze over. Her legs were bent at an odd angle, and she hurt, everything hurt. Her neck was on fire, her legs felt broken, her elbows raw from where they had helped to soften her fall.

Everything is silent, outside of her jagged breathing, which eventually evens out, and she finally looks up. He is standing before her, his arms crossed over his chest, and a smile.. No, a /grin/ resting on his face.

“Good. I’ve always been fond of surprises. Looks like that is a trait we both share.” is all he says, before sand swirls around him, and he vanishes, leaving the scent of blood, and the sounds of her sobbing to fill up the empty cabin that she had been left in.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I'm gonna go out on a limb here and maybe debate with myself if I should keep writing. I love these two so much, but the question is, do others love these two? I know the summary is kinda crappy, and I'll probably change it later in time. But yes. Here. Have some Gaara/Temari starting from the beginning (they are aged up, just sayin'). Hopefully, I'll retain enough inspiration to keep writing, and we can explore the foundations of whatever the fuck these two are.


End file.
